


Lifetime

by Jemisard



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Episode: s04e01 The Dead of Winter, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemisard/pseuds/Jemisard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James visits Paul in prison. (Non-explicit discussion of child abuse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifetime

Paul sat behind the glass screen, hair neatly combed and parted, hands folded in front of him, mild, inoffensive smile on his face as he picked up the telephone receiver to his side.

"Hello, James. Thank you for visiting."

James sat on the other side of the glass, a knot in his throat and weight in his stomach. "Hello, Paul."

Paul looked down at his hand and back again. "I, am sorry. For shooting you."

"Why?" James shifted his weight, sitting straighter and squaring his shoulders. "You were planning on killing me with that gun in the summer house. Why be sorry that you only got me in the arm instead?"

Paul had the grace to look slightly ashamed. "I didn't want to hurt you. Even after you left us behind. I just had to protect his Lordship."

It took a hard swallow to press back the bile and nausea. "It was never our job to protect him."

"How can you say that?" Paul's expression was bewildered and hurt at once. "We all protected him. Scarlett, myself, even you, James. You protected him. He loves us. Even you, after all you've done."

"You sound like Father Jones talking about God," James accused.

"I never cared for God half as much as you do. God didn't give me work or cure my stutter. God didn't give me love or money or _scholarships_." Paul looked down, lips tight and white. "I didn't ask you here to argue with you."

"I'm still not sure why you asked me here. To apologise for shooting me and what? Not killing me like you intended? Like you did everyone else?" He closed his eyes, cutting off Paul's face. He needed to calm. Center. Breathe.

"For hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Just kill me," he heard himself say softly, tone amused and bitter at once.

"They won't let his Lordship write to me."

He looked up. So that was what it was about. "And you want me to see if I can change that."

"Please?" Paul leaned forwards. "He needs me. My counsel. My thoughts. If I can't be there for him-"

"No."

"James-"

"No!" He glanced down until the curious gazes looked away again. "No, I won't. You're his _victim_ , Paul. More than any of us ever were. At least we got our own lives once we got too old to be of interest."

They stared at each other through the glass, three years of age and a lifetime time between them.

"Don't ask me back, Paul. I won't come. I'm leaving Crevecoeur behind this time. For real." He hung up the phone and stood up.

He walked away with nothing left but a vague pity and the nagging thought that maybe this could have been him.

A lifetime ago.


End file.
